When She Was
by Once-upon-a-mind
Summary: A series of one-shots, from the same universe, about Rachel Berry. Puckleberry romance. Perspectives alter chapter-by-chapter. Alternate universe that will borrow from canon. All major Glee characters included. Enjoy :
1. 01 Another Part of Me

**Hi everyone,**

**So, this is my first attempt at _Glee_ fanfiction. I'm toying with a few ideas for some stories I wanted to post on here. I was listening to Coldplay's _Paradise_ (where the title of the story comes from) and suddenly this idea blossomed and flourished before I could really stop it...not that I actually tried ;)**

**Rachel has always been my favourite character (which is why the story is about her) and I've recently come into Puckleberry fandom (which is why any drabbles relating to Rachel's romantic conquests will ultimately be Puckleberry). **

**This is an alternate universe fic which will borrow from canon where I see fit. All major Glee characters will be included.**

**I do not own, nor am I in any way affiliated with _Glee_. **

**Enjoy the story!**

When she was born, it was after a forty-two-hour long exhausting, tiring, gruelling, emotionally draining and extremely painful labour. Rachel Berry's entrance into the world predicated her status as a diva; she arrived at 11:59 p.m. on December eighteenth, 1994.

When she was born, she came into the world with a thick head of jet-black hair and a healthy set of lungs (like she had realised while still in the womb that her future on Broadway was contingent on her ability to reach notes no newborn before her ever had). Her dads were tearful as their slightly shaking hands both grasped the small scissors that would cut the umbilical chord and with it any remnants of a connection with her birth mother.

They had all decided, the three of them together, that it was for the best if the woman the two men had screened and ultimately decided as the perfect surrogate for their perfect child, that it would be best if she did not hold the child after the birth. It would be easier that way, better.

But it hadn't easier and it hadn't been better. Not for her, anyway.

After they had thanked the woman for the umpteenth time and informed her the agreed upon price would be in her account before she left the hospital, the couple followed the nurse that was wheeling their daughter towards the nursery crying and gushing at how perfectly beautiful she was. She wouldn't doubt the baby was beautiful but she would never know for sure having only glimpsed a small head before she was bundled up and taken away.

She watched them disappear from the room and her life. She had spent the better half of two years with the couple, getting to know them before agreeing to do this thing for them and then living with them as they took care of he throughout the pregnancy. They were extremely attentive of her needs and made sure she was as comfortable as she could be.

They had formed a strange little family and even though she knew in her heart that it was a family of convenience that would be destroyed as soon as the child was born, she really liked them, had grown to love them.

As she sat alone in the hospital bed, subconsciously rubbing her belly, consciously missing the tiny human that not a half hour ago had resided inside, she didn't realise she had been crying until the midwife gently wiped the tears from her face and whispered _you did an amazing thing and they'll never forget you for it_ before squeezing her shoulder and leaving the room.

'Goodbye my little star,' she whispered, the tears gaining momentum as she remembered the late nights spent singing to the foetus in her belly, telling stories, sharing dreams, acting out scenes from her favourite musicals. And singing, again, always, forever singing.

She had tried so hard to ignore the feelings of love and affection when they began to surface.

For the first three, almost four, months she couldn't stand being pregnant. She spent most of her days in the bathroom and could stomach almost nothing the father's Berry gave her. They had rushed her to the hospital four times before their doctor finally told them that if they were to return before their next scheduled appointment without a real emergency in play, he would be forced to resign his position as their doctor and they would need to find someone else for the job.

And because the father's Berry only wanted the best that money could buy, they finally agreed that yes, saltine crackers and small sips of water did indeed quell the stomach. And that spending a week in the cabin, away from the smog and surrounded by fresh air did in fact relax the nerves and clam the pregnant woman.

But then, late one night, as she was nearing the end of her fourth month, she sensed a fluttering in her stomach and she knew she loved this baby that she would never know. She cried that night, her heart tearing in pieces as she sung a soft lullaby to the baby (it was no longer simply a foetus).

She couldn't ignore the love that was steadily growing with each passing minute. She couldn't put her emotions down to her raging, crazy hormones. She couldn't pretend that every time she felt the baby move or kick her heart wasn't seizing with joy and pain and dry sobs were threatening to escape her lips.

But she did it for the couple because it had crossed her mind almost hourly that she should just pack up and runaway and screw everything she should just keep the tiny human growing inside her. And then she would feel guilty because the tiny human was theirs, too, and so she would pretend, to them, that she was ok with her decision.

And at night she would weep and her body would sometimes shake as she tried to stop the tears and her heart would always break as she thought of the moments she would never get. So she would sing so that the baby would know her voice even if it was never to be heard by the child again.

The nurse came back a few minutes later with a contraption that she had already familiarised herself with but that now brought about a level of fear and desolation that had settled deep in the pit of her stomach. Her empty stomach; she stoically blinked back the tears and listened in numb silence to the nurse.

_We'll need to express more milk_. The child (_her_ child, dammit!) was lost to her forever; she was hollow. So when she saw the milk dripping steadily from her breast into the bottle that would be used to feed the tiny infant she felt herself, she felt the very _life_ in her, slipping away. She couldn't find comfort in the knowledge that her milk would be the sweet nectar of her daughter's life for the next few weeks (they would wean her onto formula soon).

She only felt remorse that she would never hold her close to her chest, her heart (where the baby would forever reside no matter how badly the mother tried not to want it) as she affectionately nursed her. A rubber teat would replace her.

She didn't miss the sympathetic look the nurse threw her as she left the room, carrying away the final connection she would have with her daughter. The tears were already clouding her vision and spilled only when she realised that she would never even know her daughter's name.

**I couldn't help but wonder how Shelby felt the day she gave birth to Rachel so when the line "when she was born" found itself staining my blank screen, it only seemed fitting to have this be Shelby's thoughts. **

**The next chapter will be about the same situation but this time we will hear from the fathers Berry.**

**I hope you enjoyed. Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated. If anyone has any requests or ideas, let me know (I will credit what does not come from my own mind) :D**


	2. 02 Sweet Disposition

**Thank you all for reading, for the alerts and subscriptions, and for the review.**

**This chapter is shorter than the first but I hope you enjoy.**

**I do not own Glee (but like many of you I really wish I did!)**

When she was born, she came into the world with a thick head of jet-black hair and a healthy set of lungs. Her dads were tearful as they both grasped the tiny scissors that would cut the umbilical chord and with it any remnants of a physical, bodily connection with her birth mother.

The nurse had placed their bundled daughter in Leroy's arms. They spent a moment examining their daughter, simultaneously crying and laughing at the tiny little human screaming in her daddy's arms and who was, as unbelievable as they were still finding it, really, truly, honestly all theirs.

Though her face was swollen and wrinkled and bright red from the crying, there was no ignoring the resemblance their daughter held with her birth mother. And while all newborn babies are quite similar in appearance, traces of the woman who had given birth to her ghosted over her perfect features.

With or without Shelby in her life, there was no denying that Rachel Berry was her mother's daughter. And indeed when her fathers' would witness such likenesses in the years to come, a sad smile would cross one or both their features; a furtive glance and curt nod would pass silently between them.

And sometimes, when the young girl would sit happily between her fathers' watching _Funny Girl_ or _The Sound of Music_ or another musical that she so adored, and when she would sing to every song and dance to every number, her actions so uncannily resembling her mother's, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu would hit them. This was a moment experienced with their daughter's mother more times than they could recall.

She would be the unnecessary reminder of the woman who had given them everything; who had made their dreams an all too real (and all too perfect) reality. There was no denying that Shelby had left a perpetual mark on her unknowing daughter.

'We need to examine her and then we'll be taking her to the nursery,' they didn't take their eyes of the baby as the woman lifted her from Leroy's arms, gently coaxed the bottle of expressed milk into her waiting lips, and placed her in the bassinet.

'We can't thank you enough,' Hiram turned towards the hospital bed, tears lining his cheeks as he made no move to clear them as he quickly hugged her and promised her they would make good on their end of the deal.

'Thank you,' Leroy said, embracing the woman. 'Just…thank you.' He felt her nod against his shoulder and smiled a final good bye before he and his partner quickly followed the nurses out of the room, their hands clasped tightly together.

They were lead to a room and told to take a seat and wait while they did the necessary tests and examinations. It was already difficult to have the infant out of their sights and their thoughts flashed to the woman in they had just left alone a few moments ago. Neither brought that up, they turned instead to a topic that had given them much difficulty over the last nine months.

'I don't think she's a _Sara_,' Leroy said, taking a hold of Hiram's hand.

'She is definitely not an _Abigail,_ and I don't really think _Jessica_ is fitting,' Hiram replied.

'It's down to _Jennifer_ or _Rachel_,' Leroy said. They had added those two names on the list only two months ago after watching and quickly becoming addicted to _Friends_.

Their conversation was cut short when the nurse returned and told them that their daughter was perfectly healthy and she was now peacefully slumbering in the nursery. They followed her down the hall, their daughter the only occupant of the large, colourful room. She left the overjoyed parents alone with their daughter and did not tell them she would be going to visit the mother to get more milk.

'_Rachel_,' Hiram said softly, caressing the name as the child slept. 'She looks like a _Rachel_.'

'I think you're right,' Leroy agreed, wrapping his arms around Hiram's middle from behind and resting his chin in the crook of his shoulder. '_Rachel Barbra Berry_.'

'Shelby?' Hiram placed his own hands resting on top of Leroy's as he felt the nod against his shoulder. They had quickly learned of Shelby's obsession with Barbra Streisand and had many times heard her softly (and many times not so softly) singing to her songs. She had never suggested a name (because she had decided that it would be too hard to name the child and further complicate the situation).

They didn't discuss middle name options and neither of them had thrown any into the mix. But hearing the name spoken out loud…they knew it was perfect.

'_Rachel Barbra Berry_,' Hiram agreed and languid grins spread across their faces while they watched the child in peaceful slumber.

Beneath the giddy excitement and pure joy, they knew they were in for some difficult times. But for now they chose to ignore them; for just that one night, they would ignore the worry that had been building in their chests since they found out they would become parents. For just this moment, they wouldn't think about the questions they knew their daughter would one day have about her mother.

For just this one night, they would revel in the fact that they _had_ a daughter, and come what may, she would know they loved her and that they had loved her from long before she was even conceived. They would never stop hoping that this would be enough and, although they were aware of the incredible naiveté of this, they hoped that she would never feel the pain of the absence of a mother in her life.

For this one night, their family was perfect. Because when she was finally born to them, they knew she had been the one thing missing from their lives.

**Thanks again for reading. I do enjoy hearing people's opinions and constructive criticism is always helpful.**

**Just a note, I have no idea what Rachel's fathers' names are but have seen these used in a few stories around here so thought I would, too.**

**I am hoping to update this about once a week.**

**Happy weekend :)**


End file.
